Viceroy Girls
A final visit to inspect the girls from Training Ship Viceroy and On Board the T.S. Viceroy, who are back at sea now after their on-shore excursion. From Uniform Girls 34
Susan and Penny stand smartly at ease on the forward deck
of the Sea Maiden. It is a bright and sunny June morning with a
light south-westerly breeze which causes the well-scrubbed deck planking
beneath their parted feet to ease slightly up and down. A large gull wheels
overhead, then swoops in to land in the rigging some five feet in front of the
girls. Susan’s eyes take it in without moving. What type of gull is that? They
are supposed to know about seabirds, supposed to have remembered what was in
that book of Mr Calway. He could easily ask, and if they don’t know of course…
if she, Susan, doesn’t know…
Both girls are in T.S. Viceroy uniform.
White short-sleeved tops and matching brief shorts; sailor caps set squarely on
their heads; white ankle-socks and trainers. The tops and shorts are
ultra-tight and form-fitting; also you don’t wear anything underneath, no
knickers or bra, nothing. Nipples under the two tautly-stretched tops are
clearly visible; round behind are the clefts of bottoms; whilst in front at the
shorts’ brief Vs at the tops of plump thighs the eye can even make out those
central vertical indentations, so tight are the two pairs of shorts. Girls
at T.S. Viceroy must always wear uniforms as form-fitting as
this: Mr Calway’s strict instructions. The shorts are so tight that it is
always a bit of a struggle getting them down. And they tend to have to come
down quite a lot; at T.S. Viceroy there is an awful lot of
taking down of shorts. Not to mention of course taking off of tops as well.
The gull after briefly peering around and evidently
deciding there is nothing for it here, takes off with a squawk. Susan observes
this with some relief: she thinks it was a herring gull but is by no means
sure. And Mr Calway of course is due out here on deck at any moment, after
having his drink with Mr Mylforth. It could very easily be: ‘And what bird is
that, Susan?’ And if: ‘Uh… herring gull, Mr Calway,’ not spoken with any great
assurance is in fact incorrect… well, Susan is all too well aware how Mr Calway
would probably seek to instil the correct identification into her. Yes, by
requiring her to take down those very tight shorts.
‘Was that… a herring gull?’ Susan hisses out of the corner
of her mouth.
Penny at her side does not answer, does not move, only
perhaps stiffening slightly in her at ease position. Because at that instant
there is a sound behind them. Mr Calway. Followed by Mr Mylforth who is the owner
of this splendid yacht, the Sea Maiden, their host. Susan has heard
it now of course. Shapely Susan, not quite as tall as Penny and a little
plumper, likewise stiffens, legs and arms bracing. Every nerve now alert. He
didn’t hear that whisper, did he?
‘Someone was talking I believe. Whispering.’ Mr Calway is
all at once there looming over Susan. Mr Calway in his frock-coated uniform,
his peaked cap and no doubt also… his cane as well. His hand — his right hand —
comes onto Susan’s bottom in the brief, tight-stretched shorts. His right hand
of course kept free for fondling or pinching your bum — or anything else he
feels need fondling or pinching. ‘You were whispering, Susan?’
‘Uh… no… not really, sir.’
‘Not really?’ Mr Calway’s fingers push in at the division
between the taut-fleshed bottom-cheeks. Susan squirms, involuntarily, although
you’re supposed to keep quite still, hands or no hands. ‘Was it Penny then?’
No, she can’t very well claim that. Mr Mylforth has now
come round to the front. Not in a uniform, just white trousers and shirt,
though with a peaked naval cap on his head. About the same age as Mr Calway,
i.e. fortyish, but no bear. Grinning now at the two girls. His eyes on their
boobs, on their pointy nipples. Also no doubt eyeing the tight crotches of the
too-tight shorts. Mr Mylforth is not grabbing any bottoms, not yet. No doubt he
will, though, taking a cue from Mr Calway. Now they are here for a stay on his
yacht. When they, or rather Susan and Debbie with Mr Calway, went on that Mr
Simmings’ yacht for two days Mr Simmings got the idea pretty quick. Because Mr
Calway showed him. The first afternoon. Used the cane himself, then gave it to
Mr Simmings for a turn. Susan and Debbie, both of them, the cane on their bare
bottoms. Debbie is back at home base, T.S. Viceroy, at this moment,
it is Susan and Penny chosen to come on this jaunt…
‘I… wasn’t really whispering… Mr Calway. I was just…
checking on a gull. What it was.’
Mr Calway’s hand briefly explores in between Susan’s
parted legs. Checking perhaps that the skimpy crotch of her shorts is as tight
and skimpy as required. The hand slides away. ‘Take your shorts down, Susan.
When you’re standing at ease on deck is not the time to be discussing bird
life. Mr Mylforth will think you girls are a regular shambles, not trained at
all. We don’t want him to think that, do we? So take your shorts right off. Let’s
show him how a Viceroy girl likes having her bare bottom caned.’
Penny’s face as she continues to look straight ahead goes
slightly pink. It could so easily be her as well of course, another second and
she would have been whispering back. Not that there is any guarantee it won’t
shortly be her too. For something or other. Just hope. While standing still,
erect, at ease, shoulders back, boobs out. Susan she can just make out, with
peripheral vision, is doing what she has to. Untying the waist tape of her
shorts and, hot-faced, working them down over plump hips. Penny stifles a
squeak. Mr Calway has moved behind her. His hand at her bottom.
Mr Mylforth’s eyes of course are entirely on Susan now. As the shorts come down and she takes them off over first one trainer and then the other. His eyes hot on what is revealed. Susan. Confirmation of what has been pretty evident ever since Arnold Calway brought the girls on board half an hour ago: namely that they have nothing on under those shorty-shorts. Flush-faced Susan standing erect again. In just the waist-length top. To reveal that she is a true and genuine blonde, the collar matches the cuffs. In other words the cheeky blonde curls around the brim of the flat sailor cap are repeated — in perhaps just a slightly darker shade of blonde — in the bushy fleece at the tops of her plump thighs. Well, quite naturally Eric Mylforth has eyes for not much else.
Susan, without her shorts, has resumed the at ease
position. Her pretty legs precisely parted, her fingers linked behind her back.
She knows the drill of course: resume the at ease position until told to assume
a being-caned position. Which can be bending over, knees straight, touching
toes, or various others. Here on the deck of the Sea Maiden it
could be bending over the rail or anything else. It could be kneeling on the
deck, on hands and knees…
Mr Calway pinches Penny’s leg, high up on the inner thigh,
then steps back a pace. ‘Turn and face the starboard side, Susan. Feet apart
and bend over, hands touching the deck. I’ll give you three and then perhaps Mr
Mylforth would like to give you three as well.’
Penny, feeling the painful pinch but trying to ignore it,
hears a little gaspy squeal from Susan — though what Mr Calway has said is
really no more than you would expect. Penny won’t be able to see at least; that
is something. Susan is stepping over towards the rail and out of her vision. To
face the starboard side, and the shore. Could someone see from there? With
binoculars? The Sea Maiden is anchored off-shore, round the
headland from the harbour. But someone could see from that shore, those cliffs.
See Susan without her shorts and now bending over. Her cap taken off and placed
on the deck so it won’t fall off. And Mr Calway in his navy uniform shaking the
cane, getting ready…
CRACCK…
Penny continues to stare straight ahead. Hearing the sound
of the first one landing, the meaty contact, and the resulting gurgling grunt
from Susan. The typical sound Susan makes when the cane bites into her bottom,
a sound familiar to Penny. Girls make different noises in their efforts not to
yell out which of course you mustn’t do, you learn not to do. Penny herself
makes more of a whimpering sound. Penny would like to shut her ears to these
noises: the CRACK… of the cane as its forward motion is
abruptly halted by a girl’s soft and sensitive bottom, the desperate sounds
that follow from the owner of the stricken rear. But at the same time there is
a certain interest. Mr Mylforth. The second three. What he is like.
Mr Calway of course knows how to cane so that you think
you can’t take it but you can, just. A very experienced man with the cane. Mr
Mylforth is of course an unknown quantity. He could possibly be more gentle,
afraid of hurting you. Or… either deliberately or due to inexperience do
something you can’t take. He doesn’t look like a sadist. But…
In fact from what Penny’s ears can judge what he does is
about the same as Mr Calway. Perhaps he has done plenty of this before.
When it is over Susan has to resume her position next to
Penny. At ease, her cap on again but her shorts still off and now those six
stripes humming on her bum. Penny catches a glimpse of Susan’s face as she
comes back: it has that look — of shock, of a struggle not to cry — that a girl
has when she’s just had a whippy cane delivered six times across her bottom.
The two men are now conversing in lowered tones. Discussing what is next on the
agenda no doubt. Mr Mylforth’s crew are not on board at the moment, apparently
they are due back after lunch. And in the meantime…
Mr Calway is strolling back, his cane and cap again under his arm. ‘Stand easy,’ he tells the two girls. They are to go below. Susan will come with him, she can do with an exercise session he thinks. Penny is to go with Mr Mylforth. Mr Calway smiles at their host. ‘If you think she needs a smacking or even a touch of the cane, Eric, don’t hesitate. They can’t get too much of it. Can you, girls?’
No answer is expected to this little quip. To Susan he
says, ‘Pick up your shorts but don’t put them on. I don’t think we’ll need them
on for the moment.’
Down below they separate, Penny and Mr Mylforth going
forward, the other two aft. Penny feels her pulse-rate accelerating. She is
going into the unknown. Mr Calway can be pretty awful but by now you know what
to expect, but Mr Mylforth… He pushes her forward with his hand at her bottom.
Saying some jokey thing that Penny doesn’t catch. His voice sounds excited.
They go into a cabin which has a table and two bunks. Through the porthole is
the shimmering blue sea. Mr Mylforth is closing the door.
He takes off his cap, puts it on the table, then turns to
Penny. He grins. Mr Mylforth’s face is hot looking. ‘Well, perhaps you should
take your shorts off first of all, Penny. That seems to be the order of the
day, eh?’
Penny flushes. Is that an order? Whatever Mr Mylforth
wants of course she’ll have to do. He comes closer. ‘Stand at ease, Cadet
Milbury. That’s right, isn’t it: Penny Milbury?’
Penny stands at ease; feet apart, shoulders back, hands
behind her back. ‘Yes sir.’ Is he going to make her take her shorts off?
Mr Mylforth’s hand comes out. To slide over Penny’s
thrust-out boobs. ‘Is this… how you girls always have to be? Nothing under the
uniform?’ His fingers play with a nipple through the thin cotton. Penny says ‘Yes
sir.’ The hand slides down. She can guess where it is going but doesn’t move.
Well, only a slight flinching. Viceroy training. Self-control. The hand does
what she has expected. Cups the crotch of the skin-tight shorts. Penny
suppresses a squeak. Mr Mylforth’s face looks even hotter. Perhaps he doesn’t
normally have girls, she was wrong about that caning, thinking he was used to
doing it.
‘What… if it’s cold? Or raining. You might… ha-ha… catch
pneumonia.’
Ignore the hand. And don’t move. He knows you’re not
supposed to move, not at ease or at attention. If she moves Mr Mylforth will
have her shorts off. It’ll be an excuse and he really wants to, she can see
that in his eyes. ‘Uh… No Mr Mylforth. We have our coats. And raincoats.’
‘But… no… no… underwear? Nothing… under here?’ The hand grips tighter.
Penny shakes her head, chestnut curls bobbing round the
sailor cap. Her self-control is being tested to the limit. ‘What about
boyfriends?’ Mr Mylforth changing tack. Into a direction not unrelated to his
hand’s activity though. ‘Have you got a boyfriend? Can you get to see him?’
‘Yes. Sometimes.’ Keep looking straight ahead. Which means
into Mr Mylforth’s face… but not focussing on it. He laughs. ‘Not often though?
Not often enough I expect. Eh? A girl can get frustrated I should think. Eh
Cadet Milbury?’
Penny says ‘No sir.’ Mr Mylforth’s hand is squeezing her.
Squeezing Penny’s pussy. Naturally you can’t really ignore that sort of thing
however much you try. Her reply is not true of course. You can get very
frustrated indeed. And there are plenty of people around at T.S.
Viceroy more than happy to do something about it even though they’re
not supposed to. The bos’n; just about all the instructors. Not Mr Calway of
course, he’s not interested; Mr Calway’s interests are the cane and exercise
work-outs that leave you half dead. Viceroy cadets must be fit. As well as
disciplined. The cane and a work-out. One followed by the other. Either way
round. Sometimes the cane then a work-out and then the cane again. Which could
be what Susan is getting right now. Mr Mylforth though… Penny can sense that Mr
Mylforth is interested in the other all right. His hand doing what it is doing…
and those hot eyes…
The hand does now come away. Mr Mylforth steps back. ‘Good.
Well anyway, shall we have the shorts off now? Mr Calway did mention the
possibility of a spanking. Or even the cane. Your pretty colleague has taken it
on her bottom — and may even be taking a second dose right now. For whispering
during drill. With pretty Penny getting off scot-free, eh? But in my
experience, Penny dear, when there is whispering amongst girls it is hardly
ever just the one whispering.’
Penny experiences a hot surge of indignation at this. When
she never opened her mouth! ‘Pl… please… I didn’t. Really, Mr Mylforth.’ But Mr
Mylforth doesn’t want to know. What he does want to do is to get her shorts
off.
‘Well maybe,’ he says amiably. ‘We won’t argue. But we
will have them off. Mmm?’ He is sitting down on one of the bunks. ‘Come on.’
There is nothing for it. Penny’s hands go to the waistband
of her shorts, to untie the tape. It’s always worse when you haven’t done
anything but of course that is not a unique feeling, Mr Calway is certainly
capable of caning you for nothing. She struggles the tight shorts down. He
wants them right off of course. Maybe it will only be a spanking — although
that will be bad enough, Mr Mylforth is clearly intending to enjoy himself.
‘Stand up straight then. Come closer. Then at ease.’ The shorts are off. Red-faced Penny steps forward, to stand at ease close in front of Mr Mylforth. ‘Nice,’ he says.
He takes hold of the bottom of her tee-shirt and pulls it
right up, to uncover Penny’s boobs. They are not quite as big as Susan’s but
nice ones all right, pert and firm. ‘Very nice, Cadet Milbury. Mmm?’ Mr
Mylforth’s hand tweaks first one bared nipple and then the other. ‘And Cadet
Milbury… doesn’t get frustrated. Mmmm…?’
Penny makes a gaspy gurgling sound. Mr Mylforth’s hand has
come down… to her pussy again. To the neat chestnut-brown bush. His hand
cupping it. ‘How often… do you see that boyfriend… Penny…?’
She gasps ‘Not… too often.’ And then is being pulled down
over Mr Mylforth’s lap. Face down, her bare hips across his smart white
trousers. The sailor cap falls from Penny’s head and rolls across the red
carpet to come to rest in a patch of shimmering sunlight. Mr Mylforth’s hand is
at the silky flesh of Penny’s bottom, and the backs of her thighs. And then…
she lets out a low whimpering sound… as it slides in between her legs.
‘Not very often, Penny? Well that must leave a girl
frustrated.’ His hand is doing it. Wanking her. Penny splutters out ‘No…
please…’ but naturally to no avail. ‘Come on, Penny dear,’ the low, excited
voice says. ‘I’m sure you need it…’
She can’t stop him and Penny can’t help herself. Mr
Mylforth is doing it and she is responding. A girl can’t help herself
responding. Her hips, with a will of their own, bucking and surging. Penny
doesn’t take long to come, hardly any time at all, although she doesn’t want
to, it is awful having to like this. Spread-legged over a man’s lap. But she
comes, she can’t help herself, with an urgent high-pitched wail.
As soon as she has come and without giving her any time to
recover Mr Mylforth is spanking her. Hard, crisp spanks to Penny’s quivering
bottom, to the backs of her now slack thighs. Like this, right after a girl has
come, when she’s just sliding down from that desperate peak, a spanking is a
really diabolical thing. It is like dying a thousand deaths.
----//----
‘Yes I think so, Penny dear.’ Mr Mylforth’s hand pats her
bare thigh, hot in the bright sun. ‘It would have taken a rather long time.’
They are heading out from the Sea Maiden towards
the shore in Mr Mylforth’s small motorboat. He is referring to his dingy which
it had been suggested the two girls could row to shore. Both of them heaved
sighs of relief when that idea was abandoned. The distance must be more than a
quarter of a mile. It had been Mr Calway’s idea but he had accepted that it
could take rather a long time and they might be late for lunch. He was keen for
them to do some hard rowing though. ‘Perhaps after lunch then. And on a day like
this they could strip off, down to their socks and caps.’
Mr Calway is quite capable of carrying out that threat but
for the moment they are skimming over the shimmery blue surface in the
motorboat, Penny sitting next to Mr Mylforth at the wheel and Susan with Mr
Calway amidships. It is still a beautiful day, the sun beating down out of a
clear sky as it was earlier when Susan had to take her shorts off and get that
caning on the Sea Maiden for’ard deck. Both girls have their
shorts back on now of course, they are going into the little port and so have
to look respectable. Or as respectable as you can hope to look in a T.S.
Viceroy outfit, skin-tight and with clearly nothing underneath. It is
not very nice having to walk about in a public place in a Viceroy uniform but
that is what it will shortly be with quite possibly a lot of gawping tourists
about.
‘I should like to see them rowing though,’ Mr Mylforth
adds. ‘See their muscles working.’ He reaches to squeeze Penny’s upper arm. ‘I
bet Penny’s got some really lovely muscles.’ He laughs at his little joke. ‘Eh
Penny? Muscles all over I expect.’ The hand drops down to her thigh, this time
very close to Penny’s groin.
‘They are supposed to be fit,’ Mr Calway says. ‘Although
of course girls tend to be slackers and won’t exercise unless you make them.
These two are no exception I’m afraid.’
‘Won’t exercise!’ Mr Mylforth exclaims. Sliding his hand
in between the tops of Penny’s thighs. ‘Oh dear. That can call for the cane I
imagine.’
Mr Calway says yes. In his cabin he has just given Susan a
couple more with his cane. After putting her through a killing exercise
routine. Penny hasn’t had the cane at least, just that breath-stopping spanking
over Mr Mylforth’s lap — not to mention that other diabolical business. Neither
girl however imagines that their ordeals are over for the day.
There are lots of people to be seen when a little later they enter the harbour. Susan and Penny exchange rueful glances. No doubt there will be plenty of girls and young women around in brief bikinis but somehow the Viceroy outfit always seems briefer, more revealing, even than the briefest bikini. And it is true, as soon as they are out of the boat and on dry land the two Viceroy cadets are the immediate object of everyone’s attention: Grins and giggles. Young boys exclaiming, ‘Cor look at that! Look at ‘er bum in those shorts!’ Everyone it seems and especially every man, every boy, is staring at them. At these two pretty girls, blonde and brunette, in their sailor caps with their shapely figures almost nuder than nude in the skin-tight and ultra-brief T.S. Viceroy uniforms.
Mr Calway doesn’t mind of course, having to walk with
everyone staring at them, with small boys and youths leering and making
comments, is good training. Self-control and discipline. ‘Don’t slouch,’ he
tells them. ‘Keep those shoulders back.’
In fact he says there is no hurry, it is early for lunch
and they can walk around for a bit. To prolong his two cadets’ embarrassment no
doubt. Towards the end of the front there is an old ship’s cannon set up on a
plinth and pointing out over the harbour. Mr Mylforth who has his camera with
him says he would like a shot of Penny sitting astride the cannon. He laughs. ‘Perhaps
without her shorts, eh?’
That is a joke although not a very funny one to Penny.
Both men laugh of course. Mr Calway says, ‘Yes. That’d make a nice shot.’ But
it is impossible, thankfully, there are people strolling by. It is bad enough
as it is: Penny having to clamber up and get her legs astride the gun barrel.
This position spreads her thighs wide, threatening to stretch the already
tautly stretched shorts beyond the point of no return. Susan watches nervously,
wondering if Penny’s shorts are going to split in two, a sudden ripping sound,
to reveal the pink of Penny’s bare bottom in a gaping split. A family group has
stopped to watch the action and quite possibly they are wondering the same
thing. Mr Calway squeezes Susan’s arm. ‘Your turn next,’ he tells her.
Penny is told to arch her back, stick out her chest. Stick
her tits out that means. Mr Mylforth moves around, getting shots from various
angles. Somehow the severely strained stitching in the rear of Penny’s shorts
doesn’t give way. She at last is allowed to climb down, red-faced and
shaky-legged. The grinning family now move off. No one else is for the moment
in the immediate vicinity. ‘Would you like Susan with her shorts off?’ Mr
Calway asks.
Susan gives a shocked yelp. Realising that he is serious.
Mr Calway ignores her of course. ‘I think we could. Come on, Susan. Get them
off.’
Susan looks frantically round. Further along the
sun-drenched front there are figures approaching. Not close at the moment, but…
‘Please sir…’ she hisses.
‘Get ‘em off,’ Mr Calway barks. ‘Or I’ll take them off and
make you parade up and down the front in just your top.’
Penny is looking on with awed fascination. The very
thought of it makes you feel slightly sick. What she had to do was bad enough,
but… no shorts!!
Susan is unhappily taking off her shorts. Those people are coming closer at a fair pace. She begins to move more urgently, her only hope being to perhaps get it over with before that couple with the boy get close.
Penny’s eyes widen as Susan climbs up — with help, perhaps
unwelcome, from Mr Mylforth. Susan’s thighs momentarily spread wide… and then
she is up. Bare thighs clasping the naked metal — and even more intimate parts
of Susan in intimate contact too. Mr Mylforth is clicking away like mad — but
that threesome is now not far away. They can plainly see Susan is up on the
cannon although possibly not yet, with Mr Calway and Mr Mylforth standing
close, that she has no shorts on. They are going to see though; it is clear to
Penny that they must see.
They do see. This youngish couple with their son, on
holiday clearly, they do see because Susan is still up on the cannon when they
reach the Viceroy contingent. Susan is panicking and attempting to get down at
the same time. With the result that she shows a lot more than she otherwise
might. Everything in fact. Mr Calway possibly does not wish this complete
public display but there is nothing he can really do at this point. The boy’s
mouth and eyes gape wide — not surprisingly because at that age you do not
normally get a full and unimpeded view of everything an 18-year-old girl has.
His father gazes with the same intensity because even if you have seen it
before, well… the mother turns away in shock.
How awful for poor Susan!
Mr Calway naturally says it is all Susan’s fault, she
could easily have got down before those people got close. She was deliberately
making an exhibition of herself. Poor Susan, with her shorts now back on and
the startled-eyed trio who had had that amazing show now moved on, was in
tears. The awfulness of it and in addition what Mr Calway was going on to say —
as of course he would — that she would certainly have to have a good caning
after that. ‘As soon as convenient after lunch,’ he said.
What had happened and Mr Calway’s promise was enough to completely spoil Susan’s appetite for her fish-and-chip lunch. Penny was also apprehensive about what the afternoon might bring — not to mention the evening, and the night on board the Sea Maiden, and indeed the whole of the rest of the two-day cruise planned to start later this afternoon. For one thing Mr Calway said he was going to make them exercise on deck in the nude (apart from socks and trainers) with the Sea Maiden crew watching. But in spite of all this in prospect Penny wasn’t put off her food. However awful things were you had to keep your strength up.
This is another of my favourite stories. The disciplinary regime depicted is superb with the girls learning near total obedience to the will of their gentleman trainers. I say 'near total' because there is never any room for complacency, young women can and should be tested and pushed to new levels of self control and conformity, as we see Mr Calway and Mr Mylforth doing here - to levels they were never previously thought capable of achieving. And a very enjoyable business it is too. Caning them. Putting them through gruelling nude exercise regimes. Plenty of 'other' things also.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that Penny doesn't get to see her boyfriend very much. I don't really approve of boyfriends. Girls' 'frustrations' can quite adequately be taken care of in the good old Blushes way - as we read of Mr Mylforth doing to Penny here. And then a good spanking, or preferably the cane.
The final denouement with Susan being made to sit with her completely naked thighs astride the cannon is really inspired and unusual. Comedy gold. What a disgraceful public (and pubic!) exhibition she makes of herself! I'm sure Mr Calway will cane her very harshly for that. I love the way the girls TS Viceroy Uniforms (such as they are) are described as making them feel more naked than if they were wearing skimpy bikinis. There's a truth to that you can appreciate.
Of course, my idea is that in the ordinary run of things, young women would not be permitted to wear skimpy or sexually provocative clothing in the public sphere - my main preference being for demure, knee length gingham and plaid dresses and skirts. However, for girls on mandatory training courses there would be a special dispensation so that they can be paraded in the way depicted here, if their trainers consider it beneficial. That would mean that when girls are forced to appear in public in such 'immodest' uniforms as the TS Viceroy ones, or even be made to appear in various states of nudity, there would be a very great novelty factor to it for any onlookers present and thus more embarrassment and shame for the girls.